


The Lack of Discord

by becbecboom



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Doppelcest, Doppelganger, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7952602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becbecboom/pseuds/becbecboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra meets her Apple of Discord-affected self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lack of Discord

Cassandra loves to lose herself in the depths of the library. She wanders through the labyrinth of rooms, mapping the layout in her head, feeling it grow and change as the library rearranges itself, endless and constant. 

"You should be careful," Jenkins sometimes warns her when she returns, arms full of books and charts to be studied. "You never know what you might find."

"That's the fun of it," Cassandra replies, smiling, and Jenkins stares back at her, impassive, eyes narrowed in concern.

Today, she's somewhere in the Classics Room, poring over Pythagoras' original work, triangles and numbers skittering around her brain lazily, when suddenly there's a voice from behind her. "Hello," it says, the sound so familiar that Cassandra frowns, turning to see… herself.

Or _not_ herself, because that's not her, she'd never dress like that, in a pair of black leather short shorts that barely cover _anything_ and a red crop top so sheer she can see her own nipples through it, peaked and hard. She'd never smile like that, with knowing, worldly eyes and a sneering, dark-painted mouth.

"Look what I have," says the girl who can't be her, holding up the apple.

"Oh," Cassandra says. And, _"Oh,"_ she repeats as she begins to understand. A time rift, perhaps? An alternate dimension? But _how?_

"Trying to work it out, aren't you?" says the girl, her smile widening. "You think too much, Cassie," she says. "Always have. You should loosen up, be more like me."

"You're…" Cassandra swallows, steadying herself. "You're not me."

"But I am," says the other her, screwing up her nose and giggling delightedly. "I'm the _best_ version of you."

"The _worst,"_ says Cassandra, uncertain, because that's how it works, isn't it? She thinks back, tries to remember how it felt when she was affected by the apple, and it's hazy, yes, but… what she recalls, more than anything, is _freedom_. And no, no, that can't be right, that wasn't what happened, but her thoughts are racing and there's the smell of something about to catch fire, smouldering heat and burning and...

A cool hand cradles her jaw. "It's okay," the other tells her, and she's closer now, close enough that Cassandra can barely breathe. Her chest rises and falls, and she's counting her heartbeats, calculating the speed, her pulse's rate of acceleration, faster and faster.

"I don't…" she begins, but is silenced with a gentle finger pressed against her lips.

"I know what you need," the other her says, so soft it's a caress, breath ghosting over the sensitive place on Cassandra's neck. Her hand is inside Cassandra's shirt, thumb circling over her nipple firm enough to make her gasp. "Let go," not-her says, her mouth hovering temptingly over Cassandra's, the words a promise. "It's going to be okay, Cassie," she says. "Just let it all go."

_No,_ Cassandra wants to say, the noise inside her head a shrieking cacophony, almost unbearable.

"Trust me," the other whispers. And then they're kissing, and finally, for the first time, Cassandra's mind is still.


End file.
